


Through the Years

by lettersinpetals



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Breaking Up & Making Up, Fluff and Angst, Jealous Miya Atsumu, Jealous Sakusa Kiyoomi, Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Past Ushijima Wakatoshi/Sakusa Kiyoomi, Pining, Post-Break Up, Sakusa Kiyoomi-centric, Skiing, Snow!, all's well that ends well, past Miya Atsumu/Hinata Shouyou
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-07 23:21:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26645923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lettersinpetals/pseuds/lettersinpetals
Summary: The team had planned and booked this trip impulsively months prior, when their newest Jackal, Hinata Shouyou, carelessly mentioned that he’d never gone skiing. The statement had triggered exclamations of disbelief, and spurred their idiot teammates Miya Atsumu and Bokuto Koutarou into Googling their favorite skiing spots. One thing led to another and here they were: in a rented chalet in Niseko for a five-day trip, with team captain Meian Shuugo acting as their sole supervision.This did not bode well.--The MSBY Black Jackals go on a five-day vacation in Hokkaido. They're in for a cold shock.
Relationships: Miya Atsumu/Sakusa Kiyoomi
Comments: 75
Kudos: 1069
Collections: Behold the Sacred Texts, Haikyuu14, SakuAtsu Fics





	Through the Years

**Author's Note:**

> Here have some light reading before my next series. Mind the year indicated per section, and keep in mind that the present time is 2019.

**Chapter 1**

[2019]

The cold had long since settled into his bones. It was January, and the temperature was at an all-time low, made worse by the fact that they were in Hokkaido.

The team had planned and booked this trip impulsively months prior, when their newest Jackal, Hinata Shouyou, carelessly mentioned that he’d never gone skiing. The statement had triggered exclamations of disbelief, and spurred their idiot teammates Miya Atsumu and Bokuto Koutarou into Googling their favorite skiing spots. One thing led to another and here they were: in a rented chalet in Niseko for a five-day trip, with team captain Meian Shuugo acting as their sole supervision. Their head coach, Samson Foster, had waved his hand and said, “You’re grown-ups, I’m sure you can take care of yourself. Just be back here in one piece before the season resumes. I don’t have to tell you to watch your diets and workouts, do I?”

Eight members of the MSBY Black Jackals in a cabin on a snowy island. For five whole days. This did not bode well.

“Omi-Omi, there is no place for that frown here,” Atsumu said from where he was lounging by the window. “We’re in winter wonderland! Look!”

Sighing, he went over and gazed at the view. Snow blanketed everything in sight, but it was beautiful anyway. From here, it was hard to believe there was an entire world out there. Everything seemed distant.

“There better be hot chocolate,” he muttered.

“There is,” Atsumu insisted. “We can’t play in snow without hot chocolate. Don’t worry, we have everything! And we checked the reviews and stuff, it’s all clean and the supplies are complete. Okay?”

“Okay.” Maybe it won’t be so bad.

Atsumu gave him the smile he always wore whenever he managed to sway Kiyoomi into thinking the way he wanted, or doing whatever he wanted. He wanted to punch it off his face.

And then Hinata bounced his way towards them to look out the window, too. “This place is so dreamy.”

Atsumu ruffled Hinata’s orange locks playfully. “It would have been a crime not to let you experience it.”

He took it back. It was going to be the _worst_.

\--

It really wasn’t so bad at first. They checked in at 3 p.m., so they didn’t have that much time to begin with. They walked the short distance to the nearest resort to check what it had to offer, deciding that they’d go skiing first thing the following morning.

But then night fell and the team wanted to go eat out and maybe have a drink.

He’d tried to head back to the cabin, but his teammates wouldn’t let him — they practically dragged him along.

They ended up in a restaurant specializing in yakiniku.

“This is really good,” Bokuto said, his mouth full. Kiyoomi wrinkled his nose at him.

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Meian said.

“Where are we going next?” their tallest hitter, Oliver Barnes, asked. “Because I’m getting sleepy.”

“You old man,” Atsumu said. “We’re going to a bar after this, keep up.”

Their middle blocker, Adriah Thomas, groaned. “We are too old to go to bars. Can’t we just watch movies in the cabin?”

“No!” Hinata said. And apparently, his word was law, so they all trooped to a bar after.

They ended up in The Edge Bar, which had a rather cozy setup but still had lively music and a DJ.

He kept his mask down on his chin and nursed a craft beef. He used to be disgusted with the taste, but living alone in college exposed him to many shitty things, and at some point, he’d learned to adjust. The only other option was to perish.

From where he was sitting on their table, he could see Atsumu trying to pour a shot into Hinata’s mouth by the bar, Bokuto hollering beside them. His gaze was stuck on the way Hinata gripped Atsumu’s wrist, pretending to push him away, but letting him do what he wanted anyway.

“You know they’re not together, right?” Meian said from beside him.

He swiveled his head to stare at Meian blankly. “Who?”

Meian raised an eyebrow at him. “I’m not as clueless as these idiots. I have eyes.”

His heart started pounding. He flicked his eyes at the rest of their teammates — Barnes and Adriah were in a deep conversation with their libero, Inunaki Shion. “What do you think you see?”

“That you don’t really hate Atsumu-kun as you pretend to? In fact, I’d say you like him.” Meian gave him a teasing smile. “I’ve been teammates with that guy for a little over four years. I know what it looks like when people are crushing on him. It happens quite often.”

He looked away, stomach turning. He tried to appease it with a sip of the beer. “It doesn’t matter.”

“Why not? I know Atsumu-kun is single. He and Hinata-kun tried to go on a couple dates, but it didn’t work out.”

He gazed at the bar. Nodded in the direction of Hinata just as he jerked forward and clumsily pressed his lips on Atsumu’s startled ones. Bokuto burst out laughing.

“Didn’t it?”

“Oh, jeez,” Meian said. “I think they’ve had too much to drink. Time to go back.”

He spent the rest of his night in his room cursing his stupid heart and stupid Miya Atsumu.

\--

Kiyoomi stared at the snow he was supposed to step onto while wearing stupid skis and instantly wanted to turn back inside and run to their cabin. He had only been skiing once, and he had someone guiding him then. Most of the team were already trekking ahead, but he was not in the mood to tumble face first into snow.

He made to turn back but a large hand gripped his forearm. “Oh no, you don’t!” Atsumu sang cheerfully. He started tugging. “We’re _all_ going.”

“Atsumu,” he said urgently. “I can’t.”

“You can.” Atsumu took a few steps into the snowy ground. He turned back and held out a hand. “Let’s go.”

Why did he agree to this again? 

Atsumu gazed at him beseechingly and he thought, _Oh right. That._

He eyed Atsumu’s hand distastefully and curled his gloved fingers on his forearm instead. He stepped onto the snow and braced himself against Atsumu as they started the trek towards their teammates. He wobbled and got unbalanced at times, but Atsumu was a steady presence, no give whatsoever in his body.

“Oh, what’s this?” Inunaki commented when they reached them. “You two are actually getting along? Willingly touching each other even? Can someone take a pic of this?”

“I’m filming,” Bokuto announced, turning in place and capturing them with his GoPro. “Say hi, guys!”

He glared at Bokuto while Atsumu threw up a peace sign with his free hand. Hinata wobbled closer and joined the shot, waving cheerfully.

His eye twitched.

Skiing was horrible. He fell more often than not, although he supposed it was fun whenever he pulled it off. But those moments were few and far between.

Atsumu was laughing at him. “You’re so bad at this, Omi-kun.”

He gave him a deadly glare and hoped Atsumu could feel it through their helmets. He wondered if he could stab the idiot with his ski pole.

After a bit of that, their teammates shoved him and Atsumu into a lift together, cackling gleefully.

“Since you two are getting along so well,” Inunaki said, grinning evilly.

“Try not to kill each other,” Meian sighed. Then he gave Kiyoomi a _look_.

He sat as far away from Atsumu as he could. He glared down at snowy hills, his stomach swooping at the height.

“Don’t look down, Omi-Omi.”

He directed his glare at Atsumu. Their visors were lifted so he could feel the full effect now. “Isn’t the point of this thing to enjoy the view? I’m enjoying it.”

Atsumu snorted. “You’re not, because you’re afraid of heights.”

Kiyoomi crossed his arms and glared down at the view again. He supposed it was rather pretty. But he’d enjoy it more if he wasn’t sitting with Miya fucking Atsumu.

They spent the ride in silence, until the ride halted in its tracks. He tensed. He waited. But it wasn’t moving.

“We’re going to die,” he stated.

“Don’t be dramatic. This kind of thing happens sometimes. It will come back on in a bit.”

“But sometimes it takes hours, doesn’t it?” he demanded.

“Those are isolated cases. Stop panicking.”

“I’m not panicking.”

“You’re panicking.”

A few seconds of silence ticked by, then Atsumu shifted on the chair, making it rock. Kiyoomi gripped the metal bar that served as their 'seatbelt.'

“Can you not,” he hissed.

“Relax, okay? I just want to look at you.”

Kiyoomi turned his head to see that Atsumu had shifted to face him.

“I was just thinking, we haven’t really talked since you joined the team.”

That was six whole months ago. He didn’t know why Atsumu was bringing it up now.

“No better time than now, huh?” Atsumu said, as if he read Kiyoomi’s mind. “We might be stuck here for a while. How’ve you been?”

Kiyoomi gazed at him. Studied his blonde hair, which was lighter now. Ran his eyes on his features, which he’d further grown into, and his jaw, which looked sharper.

Atsumu had done a bit of growing up, but he still felt familiar.

“Fine,” he finally said. “And you?”

“Fine,” Atsumu replied. “Been a while, huh? What have you been up to?”

He gave him a flat look. “School. Then volleyball.”

Atsumu chuckled. “Of course. I do know that. I was asking more of the...other stuff. Heard you went out with Ushijima, congrats on that.”

“Heard you went out with Hinata, congrats on that.” He didn’t just hear it, he witnessed the entire asking-out process in the locker room.

A pause. “A couple dates, that’s it. We’re not together.”

“Why were you two making out last night, then?”

“We weren’t making out, _he_ kissed _me_ , out of nowhere I might add.”

“Don’t tell me you two didn’t kiss before.”

The silence was telling. They probably did more than just kiss and Kiyoomi hated it, and would like to get off this lift now, please.

“Why do you care?” Atsumu finally asked. “I mean you probably also hooked up with Ushiwaka. Hope it was as good as you always imagined it to be.”

There was now anger in his heart and a steel knife in his throat. “I never _imagined_ it. We just ran into each other again after years, he learned I was single, and asked me out. It didn’t work out. The end.”

“Oh.” Atsumu’s eyes were running over his face. “Was there anyone else?”

“Why do _you_ care?”

“Don’t tell me _you_ don’t care, Kiyoomi.”

He couldn’t. So he said, “Yuuto tried.”

He looked back at Atsumu in time to catch the sneer. “That punk again, huh.”

Kiyoomi sighed, exhausted. “We’re not friends anymore.”

“Good.”

Tamping down on the irritation, Kiyoomi demanded, “And you?”

“No one.” Then Atsumu thought about it. “Do one night stands count?”

He gritted his teeth through the jealousy and bitterness. He didn't say anything.

Then Atsumu said, “You don’t really have the right to be upset, Omi, you were the one who ended it.”

And wasn’t that the cursed truth?

What was he supposed to say? _I know, and I regret it?_ Or maybe, _I followed you to the Black Jackals so we can try again, but I couldn’t verbalize my feelings?_ Or the pettier, _You were fucking upset about Wakatoshi, too._

He decided not to say anything, not when the lift started working again, not even when they neared the drop-off point and Atsumu said, “Omi, I think we should talk.”

He lifted the bar and angrily skidded his way back into the building, ignoring his teammates’ greetings and their confused glances at his change of mood.

“Omi,” Atsumu called from behind him.

“Jesus, what now,” Adriah sighed, as the team followed him inside. “You were stuck up there for all of ten minutes and you’re fighting again.”

“I’m going back to the cabin,” Kiyoomi snapped, fumbling to remove his gear.

“Aw, seriously? It’s still early,” Bokuto said.

“Oh, let him be,” Atsumu said snappishly. “There is no talking to him when he’s that way. Try not to die, Omi.”

His anger spiked, and he started stalking away. Meian was asking what was going on and if he knew how to get back, but he didn’t bother answering. He did not look back.

[2011]

He leaned against the wall and crossed his arms, gazing down at the brown-haired boy stretching on the floor of the gym.

“Which twin are you?”

The boy looked up at him, startled. Then he narrowed his eyes and studied Kiyoomi right back.

“Atsumu,” he answered after a while.

Kiyoomi memorized the features he could tell were different from his twin: light brown eyes, fringe flipped to the right. He already knew he had good serves — that was what pushed him to follow him in the first place, the need to _know_ taking over.

And then Atsumu smirked at him, and he added ‘cocky’ to his mental notes. “See something you like?”

And well, he never learned to be a liar, never saw the point in putting on airs. Honestly, he said, “Yes.”

“Eh, what?” Atsumu flushed. “Oh. What?”

Kiyoomi did not see the point of continuing this conversation any longer, if Atsumu was just going to be unintelligible. He pushed himself off the wall and strolled away.

But right before Inarizaki left on the last day of training camp, which was held in Shiratorizawa that year, Atsumu cornered him. His cheeks were red but his eyes were determined as he asked Kiyoomi for his number.

Kiyoomi blinked at him from behind his mask, and carefully took the phone being offered to him. He saved his details and gave it back.

“Reply to me, will you?” And Kiyoomi was rather taken by the way it came out of pink lips sounding like _‘Reply ‘ta me, will ya?’_

He said, “Okay.”

Atsumu grinned at him and ran off, towards his team’s bus. His twin, Osamu, was waiting for him outside, and he smacked Atsumu on the back hard when they reunited. And then they slipped inside the vehicle.

It was a while before Kiyoomi would see Miya Atsumu again, but the bus was barely out of the school when his phone buzzed with a notification.

“Hi. You’re something I like, too.”

And Sakusa Kiyoomi fell in love.

**Chapter 2**

[2019]

He and Atsumu ignored each other coldly until well into the following day. Their teammates looked from one to another as if realizing it wasn’t like their old petty arguments.

When they decided to go to a public onsen, Kiyoomi wrinkled his nose and said he was going back to the cabin.

They didn’t protest.

He’d already started walking away when Atsumu said, “I’ll go back, too. You guys have fun.”

“Er, is that a good idea…?” Barnes wondered.

“Perhaps they need to talk,” Meian said. “Just...don’t kill each other.”

He ignored them all and kept walking.

“Hey, tell us what you want for dinner, so we can just grab take away for you guys later,” Hinata was saying.

“Sure. Later, Shouyou-kun,” Atsumu said, and caught up with Kiyoomi.

They spent the trek back in silence. When they reached the cabin, Kiyoomi slipped away to bathe first. The hot bath thawed him.

He knew he was being stupid.

What right did he have, really, to be upset about whatever thing Atsumu and Hinata had? Atsumu was right, he was the one who ended it.

But Atsumu was the one who just took it and left.

And sometimes he still caught Atsumu looking at him, and he couldn’t help but hope that his move from Tokyo to Osaka wasn’t for naught. He’d been trying to find a good time to talk to Atsumu, but the courage just won’t come. How was he supposed to say _‘I made a mistake, I forgive you for everything, please take me back?’_

He hoped he wasn’t ruining his teammates’ vacation. It was only their third day there, and they had two more to go.

He hid in his room after his bath, like the coward he was.

There was a knock on his door. “Omi-Omi. Come on, let’s talk.”

He didn’t answer.

When it was clear he wasn’t coming to the door, the door knob jiggled. It was locked, of course. There was a sigh. “Omi. Seriously? This is kinda immature.”

He almost laughed at that. Atsumu, accusing him of being immature?

“Oh for fuck’s sake. You’re impossible, you know? You never want to talk about shit, that’s why we’re fucking here now. I just want to know why’d you’re so upset.”

“I’m not upset,” he finally answered. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

There was a thump, like Atsumu had hit the door in frustration. “Whatever,” he said in a defeated tone. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”

He listened to Atsumu walk away. It was a familiar sound.

[2012]

Kiyoomi had fallen into a relationship with Atsumu the way he did with most of everything outside of the court: stiffly, awkwardly, and uncooperatively.

The only reason they even got anywhere was because Atsumu was the exact opposite: he was relentless, passionate, and magnetic. He lured Kiyoomi out of his shell.

Miya Atsumu was a cacophony that he had cluelessly let into his otherwise quiet life. In the beginning, he thought maybe he’d bitten off more than he could chew, but his heart pounded with every notification, and his stomach squirmed with every late night phone call, and he decided he didn’t want it to end.

The next time they saw each other since they started texting was during a tournament. Their teams eventually butted heads — Itachiyama won, knocking Inarizaki out of the competition during the semi-finals. Kiyoomi smirked, Atsumu pouted, but they sought each other out after. Hair damp from his shower, Atsumu carefully curled his pinky finger around Kiyoomi’s and they walked off to find food. Atsumu stayed by his side until it was time for him to enter the court again for the final time.

Itachiyama lost, and Shiratorizawa emerged as the champions. But what pulled the rug from under his feet was when Ushijima Wakatoshi caught him after he stepped out of the locker room and asked him out.

Kiyoomi blinked at him. “What.”

“I asked if you would be interested to go out with me sometime,” Wakatoshi said mildly.

“As a date?”

“Yes.”

Once, he would have said yes. Because Wakatoshi was his first crush, the person who made him realize he was gay in the first place.

But he had Atsumu now and he was all he could see.

“I’m sorry, Wakatoshi-kun, I already have a boyfriend.” That was what Atsumu was, right?

“Oh.” Wakatoshi paused as if absorbing this new information. “May I ask who?”

Kiyoomi hesitated. Was it too early to claim it? They never talked about it, they’ve kind of just been talking everyday for the past few months. They’ve never even gone on a date yet. But what else would Atsumu be if not his boyfriend? He was not well-versed in these things.

“That would be me,” Atsumu said from behind Wakatoshi. Kiyoomi craned his head and spotted him behind Wakatoshi, leaning against the wall, looking like he’d been there the whole time.

Atsumu pushed himself off and went to Kiyoomi, hand touching his waist. He grinned smugly at Wakatoshi. “Congrats on the game, but this is my win. See you around, Ushiwaka-kun.”

Kiyoomi waved at his old friend half-heartedly, vaguely embarrassed, and let Atsumu tug him along.

“I’m the boyfriend, right?” Atsumu suddenly said. “You aren’t going around getting involved with other people, right?”

He frowned at him. “Of course not.”

“Of course I’m not your boyfriend or —”

Kiyoomi tugged his mask down and pecked Atsumu on the cheek. Then he pulled it back up to hide his flushed cheeks. “Yes, you’re my boyfriend. No, I’m not involved with anyone else, and I hope you aren’t either.”

“I’m not,” Atsumu assured, face pink. “Can I hold your hand or do you feel grossed out by that?”

“Did you wash your hands?”

“I did.”

He slipped his hand into Atsumu and they went off in search of their teams. Their captains were probably being interviewed by the press, so they weren’t in any rush. They looked for food again.

When it was time to leave, Atsumu walked him towards his bus. “I’ll text you when I’m home.”

“Okay.”

“Gonna be a long ride.”

“Yeah.”

“So I think I deserve another kiss.”

Kiyoomi’s heart started racing. But he pulled his mask down again and dropped a kiss on Atsumu’s cheek. It landed tantalizingly close to his mouth.

Atsumu smiled at him, and Kiyoomi suddenly understood why so many girls kept screaming his name during the match. Miya Atsumu could be dangerous.

“See you next time, Omi-Omi.”

When he climbed the bus, his whole team was staring at him. His cousin, Komori Motoya, was looking at him like he didn’t know him.

“Did I hallucinate that?” Komori demanded when Kiyoomi sat down.

“No, you did not.”

“That was Miya Atsumu, right? Our _rival_?”

“Yes, but he is also my boyfriend.” The word made him smile, pleased.

“ _What_?”

As the bus devolved chaos, he sat back and thought of smug lips. _Next time._

\--

Next time he saw Atsumu, his hair was blonde.

“Surprise.”

Kiyoomi gaped at him. “What did you _do_?”

“I bleached it! You don’t like it?”

He couldn’t help but poke at it. “It’s the color of _piss_.”

Atsumu pouted, mood suddenly crashing.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like it,” Kiyoomi said in a softer tone. When did he become such a pushover? Gross.

But at least the light was back in Atsumu’s eyes.

The training camp was in Itachiyama this time. He’d been looking forward to this — a week with Atsumu.

They spent the days playing volleyball, sometimes against each other, exchanging smirks and glares across the net.

But the nights? Those they spent sneaking around, having hushed conversations, fingers intertwined.

On the second night, Atsumu said, “You know, it’s almost a year since you gave me your number.”

“Really now.”

“Uh-huh. You really should remember that, Omi-Omi, we should remember anniversaries.”

“That’s not worth an anniversary.”

“Well, when do we say we got together then?”

He thought about it. “The Nationals…?”

“No, that was just you confirming that we were together,” Atsumu insisted. “What about all the months that came before? As far as I’m concerned we were together from Day 1. When you gave me your number and we started talking.”

That did not even make sense. But he was willing to indulge Atsumu. “Fine, then. Happy almost anniversary.”

“I think it’s been long enough to warrant a kiss, right?”

His stomach was tumbling again. Atsumu once again had him floundering. “I — haven’t kissed anyone before.”

Atsumu hummed. “A girl kissed me once in middle school. It just kind of tasted like artificial cherry. But that was it.”

Kiyoomi didn’t like the thought of anyone else kissing Atsumu at all. He narrowed his eyes. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? And if Atsumu didn’t know what he was doing either, then it was fine.

He leaned forward slowly, eyes wide open. Atsumu stared back, not breathing.

Then he pressed his lips against Atsumu’s and leaned back. “That was anticlimactic.”

Atsumu huffed, offended. “Well, ya didn’t do it properly!”

He wrinkled his nose. “I’m not letting you put your tongue in my mouth, I don’t know where it’s been.”

“I brushed my teeth, okay! I was preparing for this.” Then Atsumu was suddenly cupping the back of his head and pulling him forward. “Omi-Omi.”

Feeling out of breath for some reason, he could only say, “Atsumu.”

“Can I kiss you?”

What else could he say to that? “Yes.”

Atsumu did, and Kiyoomi’s world once again shifted on its axis.

He decided he didn’t really mind kissing Atsumu at all.

Not at all.

He could do it every day.

[2013]

He sighed and turned his head to avoid the kiss. Atsumu’s lips landed on his jaw.

“Thought you said you weren’t mad,” Atsumu muttered.

“I’m not.”

“Omi. You just got here. Are we really going to fight? Again?”

“You’re the one who’s picking fights.”

“You’re the one who’s giving me the cold shoulder.”

Kiyoomi held back his tongue so they could finish their lunch in peace. They were at a hole in the wall shop in Kobe City. He was in Hyogo for a visit and they made a weekend out of it, but naturally the first thing they do is fight.

They’ve been fighting a lot. Over the stupidest, tiniest things.

He wondered if they were about to break up. That’s what happens, isn’t it? They’ve been together for almost two years. Kiyoomi didn’t really notice the time passing, but he noticed that the so-called “spark” was gone. Wasn’t that necessary for relationships to stay alive?

“Fine, don’t talk to me,” Atsumu snapped.

He didn’t. He kept his silence.

After a while, Atsumu sighed tiredly. “Alright, I’m sorry I was late, okay? Suna was badgering me about something, it wasn’t important, but you know him.”

Right. His teammate, whom he already saw most of every week, took priority over his boyfriend, whom he barely had the chance to see. Kiyoomi didn’t make the long journey from Tokyo to Hyogo just so Atsumu could keep him waiting for over half an hour. For fuck’s sake, Atsumu lived less than a 30-minute train ride away.

He didn’t respond.

Atsumu slammed his palm on the table, and dragged himself up, chair grinding noisily against the floor.

And then he picked up his wallet and phone and walked out the door.

Kiyoomi kept eating, heart aching, fury brewing. Atsumu didn’t return.

After his meal, he walked numbly towards the Airbnb he booked and wondered if it would be better if he just hopped on a train back to Tokyo. But then he already paid for the booking and checked in early, so he decided to just hole up in there and think about whether his relationship with Atsumu was going anywhere.

But later that night, there was a buzzing at the door, and he spied Atsumu through the peephole. He sighed and pressed his forehead against the door.

Then he opened it, and let Atsumu in.

Atsumu placed bags of take-away on the table and faced Kiyoomi.

Before he could say anything, Kiyoomi asked, “Are you going to break up with me?”

“What?” Atsumu stared at him. “ _No_. Do you — do you want to?”

“No,” he replied honestly, to his own surprise.

Atsumu approached him and cupped his face. “I’m sorry for earlier. For everything. I feel like I just keep fucking up. I’m sorry, Omi. I don’t want to break up.”

To his horror, his lip started trembling and his eyes started filling up with tears. Atsumu pulled him in so he could press his forehead against his.

“I just wish you’d _talk_ to me sometimes. If you’re angry, yell at me. If I do something wrong, call me out on it. If you want something, _ask_. I’ll do my best to give it, you know that. I can’t read your _mind_. As much as I wish I could. I hate that passive-aggressive crap that you do. I need you to tell it to me straight.”

He pried his jaws apart to mutter, “Sorry.” He lifted his arms and wrapped them around Atsumu.

His boyfriend — still his boyfriend, apparently — hugged him back and they stayed like that for a while, reassuring each other that they were still okay.

“Come on, I got us dinner,” Atsumu said, pulling away. “Let’s eat then look for a movie.”

They ended up watching an American film titled “A Walk to Remember,” which made them cry like idiots.

He dabbed at his eyes silently, and Atsumu cuddled against his side and clutched at him.

“Omi-Omi, you’re not hiding a terminal illness from me, are you?” he asked, breath hitching and nose red.

Kiyoomi couldn't help but roll his eyes. “Don’t be stupid. Of course I’m not.”

“I don’t know what I’m going to do if you die.”

“I won’t _die_.”

“I love you, Omi-Omi. If you die —”

Kiyoomi grabbed him by the jaw with one hand and kissed him. His lips were salty with tears. “ _No one_ is going to die.”

Atsumu dragged him back in for another kiss. And then another and another.

They ended up rolling in bed, fighting for dominance and snickering, the movie slipping from their minds.

The rest of the trip ended up okay, considering. By the time he was on the train ride home, Kiyoomi felt lighter, a smile hidden under his mask.

**Chapter 3**

[2019]

He eventually did make his way out of his room when he got hungry. Atsumu was cooking something in the kitchen.

“Sit down,” Atsumu said without turning. “I’m making curry.”

He sat and idly watched Atsumu’s back as he moved around the kitchen.

“Do you know where the others are?”

“No, but they planned on exploring the town at some point. I’m worried; it’s started snowing.”

Kiyoomi glanced at the large windows in the living room and saw that it was, indeed, snowing. It was going to be a cold night. He wondered if he could stay by the fireplace, or was better off turning up the heater in his room.

Atsumu served him food. It was 2 p.m., so this would be considered a very late lunch.

“I have no idea if it’s the wind, but there’s been an eerie sound in my room,” Atsumu said as they began eating. “Or maybe this place is haunted.”

“It’s not haunted. It’s a guesthouse.”

“What, guesthouses can’t be haunted? I felt a presence in my room last night, Omi.”

“Did you.”

“Yeah. I asked it to please leave me alone, and the presence disappeared.”

Kiyoomi stared at Atsumu.

“I’m not making it up!”

“What a friendly ghost, then.” His lips were twitching up.

At times like this, he was reminded how easy it could be to just _talk_ to Atsumu. He was the one person he could talk to all day, until the world ended. Why was it so hard for him to say what truly mattered? It’s been six _months_ since he’d been in the team. It would only take _three words_.

“I guess they could be friendly,” Atsumu was saying. “If I were a ghost, I’d definitely be friendly. I’d open the door for people and stuff.”

“No, you’d be the pesky ghost. You’d turn off phone alarms and unplug power banks when they’re being charged overnight.”

“How long are you going to hold that over my head? I told you it was an accident!”

“You did the alarm thing twice. I was late for class both times.”

Atsumu looked at his food, suddenly sombre. “Well, maybe I wanted some more time with you because we barely saw each other.”

Kiyoomi poked at his own meal. “But whenever I’d offer to skip class, you always said no.”

“Didn’t think I was worth it. I hoped you’d insist anyway.”

“I didn’t think you wanted to stay.”

“Why wouldn’t I have fucking wanted to stay?”

“It was a struggle getting you to visit in the first place, especially during third year. And don’t give me that shit about being busy training with the team, I watched your Snapchat videos, I know you weren’t _that_ busy.” _You just didn’t feel like seeing me_ , he thought, an old familiar ache unfurling in his chest.

Atsumu was quiet for a moment. “It’s not an easy commute from Osaka to Tokyo, Omi. And training _was_ tough.”

“Yeah, fine.”

What was the point of even talking about this? They were just picking at old wounds.

And he remembered that yes, with Atsumu, it was also so easy to slip into ice cold silence.

[2016]

“Yo Sakusa!”

Kiyoomi halted in his tracks and turned around to see his classmate jogging to catch up to him. His name was Yuuto and he’d quickly developed an attachment to Kiyoomi for reasons he still does not understand; probably because he was a fan of volleyball and immediately recognized who he was.

Yuuto had asked him out four months into meeting him in sophomore year, forcing him to bluntly state that he has a boyfriend, sorry. Kiyoomi had thought their acquaintanceship would end then and there, but Yuuto was apparently quick to bounce back. They’d become more or less friends, although the other boy was starting to doubt the existence of said boyfriend. Understandable — they were in third year now, and he still hasn’t seen hide nor hair of him. And Kiyoomi wasn’t exactly forthcoming about the details.

And so Yuuto was starting to get rather persistent again. Kiyoomi did not like it.

“Hey, wanna grab some early dinner with me? In that ramen shop you like.”

Kiyoomi shook his head. “I have readings to finish and papers to write.”

He started walking down the path leading away from the Sciences building. He had just finished his Sports Psychology lecture, his last class for the day. It was only 4 p.m. but he was already looking forward to holing up in his room. There was no volleyball practice today.

Yuuto kept up with him. “It’s early! C’mon, my treat.”

He was starting to get irritated, and he opened his mouth to say something he’ll probably regret later when a voice called out, “I think he said no already.”

Kiyoomi jerked his head up and beheld his boyfriend of five years.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, startled. But a warmth was starting to build in his chest.

Atsumu adjusted his bucket hat, blonde hair falling on his forehead. He grinned brightly at Kiyoomi. “Wanted to see you before the season started.”

Yuuto stuttered, “I-is that —?”

“My boyfriend? Unfortunately, yes. Don’t tell anyone.” He started walking towards Atsumu, steps gradually lengthening. When he reached him, he slid his arms around Atsumu’s waist, under his beige coat where he was warmer. Atsumu gave him a bear hug, squeezing until he was breathless.

He pulled back a little and Atsumu settled a hand at the small of his back.

“Really, what are you doing here? You said we won’t be able to meet until winter break.” Bitterness stained his tone as he remembered their last non-fight. He’d been upset about having to wait another couple months before seeing Atsumu, even though he knew it was no one’s fault. Once the V. League season kicked off, it was nonstop training and matches from November until April. The only respite the team got was the week where December bled into January.

Not to mention Atsumu lived in Osaka, where the MSBY Black Jackals were based, and Kiyoomi was studying in Chuo University in Tokyo.

But he hadn’t seen Atsumu since spring. He didn’t think it was too much to ask for a visit, but Atsumu reacted like it was. 

And yet he was here.

Atsumu cupped a hand on his cheek and gave him a perfunctory peck on the lips. In a low voice, he said, “I know you were upset. I was, too, so now I’m here. And I’ve restocked the supplies in your apartment, so we can go there now. We can cook? Or I can order take away. What do you say, Omi-Omi?”

Everytime he started to believe that their relationship was no longer worth the hassle, Atsumu did shit like this.

As always, Kiyoomi melted.

“That sounds nice,” he muttered. He rested the side of his face against Atumu’s and tightened his arms around his waist. He missed him. How can he still miss someone who’s been a constant in his life for five years? Sometimes he thinks he’s so sick of Atsumu that he could puke — but then he’ll see him, and his heart would do that familiar flip-flopping it did the first time he ever set eyes on him when he was 15.

Atsumu brushed his lips against his cheek. Then, voice muffled against his skin, he asked, “Baby, who’s the kid staring at us?”

Ah, right. He mumbled, “The classmate who asked me out before. Also, it looks like he’s your fan. That bucket hat is not a very good disguise.”

“Oh? And he’s asking you out again?” There was irritation in Atsumu’s voice now, and Kiyoomi rolled his eyes.

Before he could tell him off, Atsumu was holding him still and kissing him very thoroughly on the mouth. Kiyoomi’s eyes fluttered closed against his will.

When he pulled away, Kiyoomi’s brain went back online and he snapped, “Atsumu. We’re in public.” And in his campus at that. He untangled himself from Atsumu and started dragging him in the direction of the exit gates, flicking his eyes around and assuring himself no one was watching. Aside from Yuuto, whom he left in the dust without a word.

They didn’t talk until they were in Kiyoomi’s apartment building.

“Why are you upset?” Atsumu finally asked, while they were waiting for the elevator. “Can’t I kiss my boyfriend?”

“What part of clandestine do you not understand?” he returned. “And _you_ were the one who wanted to keep this a secret.”

They had kept it low-key in high school and they got away with it because there weren’t that many eyes on them yet, but they knew it was going to be a different story once Atsumu went pro. Atsumu wanted to protect Kiyoomi from the limelight because he was going to university, and he didn’t like it at first, feeling like Atsumu was ashamed of him. But he eventually accepted that was the less troublesome path.

“Yeah, and _you_ were the one who wanted to go public,” Atsumu pointed out.

The doors opened and he stepped in, followed by Atsumu. “Sure, when I was 18 and worrying about you going pro and forgetting about me. But right now, I don’t need to be targeted by your jealous fangirls.”

“Sounds like _you’re_ the jealous fangirl,” Atsumu teased, and then quickly braced himself when Kiyoomi tried to shove him out of the elevator. “Baby, come on, let’s fight later. Let’s go to your room first.”

He sighed and dropped his hands. He pressed the button that will take them to the fourth floor and he spent the ride up in pointed silence.

But when they entered his room, Atsumu suddenly pressed him against the door, hard body unforgiving against his.

“Hi,” Atsumu said, grasping at his bucket hat and tossing it to the side. Then he started peeling off his coat.

Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow at him, unimpressed.

“What?” Atsumu grinned at him unapologetically. “I missed you.” Then he slipped his hands under Kiyoomi’s thick sweater and ran it up his stomach. He was suddenly very, very warm.

They tumbled into his twin bed, laughing against each other’s mouth, shedding clothes along the way.

“If we break my bed again, I’ll never forgive you,” Kiyoomi huffed.

“We won’t, we won’t,” Atsumu assured.

They didn’t, but it was a close call.

\--

Kiyoomi basked in the afterglow, eyes closed and breathing steadily. He had a million and one things he had to get done, but the amount of times he could have Atsumu like this in a year can be counted with two hands. He decided to worry about everything else later.

Atsumu was curled around him, lips and tongue tracing a path from his jaw to his collarbone, and then back. He bit down on his neck hard and Kiyoomi let him leave his marks.

There was a time he never would have allowed anyone to touch his body like this. He had a love-hate relationship with touch. Skin gathers dirt and germs and all the gross things he didn’t like thinking about. But _Atsumu’s_ touch promised love and affection and desire and all the things he’d never be comfortable enough to ask or receive from anyone else.

And he was used to Atsumu. Knew him inside and out. Knew him better than he even knew himself. There was no mystery to him anymore.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Atsumu murmured. “Six months is too long a time not to see you.”

 _And whose fault is that?_ He didn’t bother uttering the words out loud.

“How’s training?” he asked instead.

Atsumu then started telling him about the latest disaster involving his newest teammate, Bokuto Koutarou. He remembered the guy — Fukurodani’s ace. He wondered why he signed with the Jackals. Last he heard, he was with EJP Rajin.

“You ready to be first string setter this season?”

“Of course I am, Omi-Omi. I’ve been waiting for this.”

“I know, love.”

“And you’ll be watching all my games, right?”

“As many as I can.” On TV, anyway.

Atsumu rewarded him with a kiss. “Babe.”

“Mmm.”

“I think you’ll really like the team.”

Here they go.

“Atsumu…”

“I know, I know it’s quite the move, but then we’ll be in the same city, finally…”

“It’s not about the _move_. I need to think about whether it’s the right decision for me.”

Atsumu was silent for a while. “But what about whether it’s the right decision for us?”

Kiyoomi felt frustration beginning to well up in him. “I don’t see _you_ volunteering to move to Tokyo. You chose the Jackals because it’s close to _your_ hometown, what about me?”

A sigh. Then, “Omi, you know Tokyo is too expensive for me.”

He did know that. Atsumu grew up in Amagasaki, an industrial city in Hyogo. It was small and the cost of living was way lower than what Kiyoomi was used to. Osaka was bigger, but nowhere near Tokyo’s size, and the cost of living was lower there, too, and that’s why Atsumu was comfortable moving there. He _understood_ that. But he didn’t see why he had to be the only one making adjustments.

“So what, I’ll have to change my entire life to follow you?”

He heard Atsumu groan and from the corner of his eye, saw him run a hand across platinum blonde locks. “So what, we’re just going to stay like this forever?”

“Is there something wrong with the way we are now?” he challenged.

“Omi. We’ve been together for five years, and we have been apart all that time. We see each other a handful of times a year, spend breaks together if we could, and that’s great, but don’t you want to, you know...actually have a future with me?”

Kiyoomi massaged his forehead. He was only 20. Wasn’t that too young to think about futures?

Appeasing now, he said, “Atsumu. I still have a term and another year to go before graduating. We have time to figure this shit out. It’s too early to discuss this.”

“Is it?”

Irritated, he asked with as much patience as he could manage, “Can we just — shelve this for a while?”

“Like I have a choice,” Atsumu muttered. Then he sighed and nosed at Kiyoomi’s cheek. “At least tell me you’ll consider it.”

“Fine,” he said, just so they could end the conversation.

“Alright. I love you.”

His shoulders dropped in defeat. “Love you, too.”

They were silent for a while, letting the tension seep away.

“When are you leaving?” Kiyoomi finally asked.

“Tomorrow, when you leave for class.”

“I can skip…”

“No, no.” Atsumu kissed his temple. “Not worth it.”

 _Yes, it is_. But he didn’t want to admit it. He just pouted.

Atsumu leaned over him and sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. Then he bit down on it, and Kiyoomi heaved a leg up and kicked him. Atsumu leaned away, laughing.

Kiyoomi braced a foot against Atsumu’s abs and started pushing. “Go take a shower, you’re gross.”

“You are too!” Atsumu protested.

“Yeah, but this is my bed. It’s fine.” He planned to lie in his own filth until he physically can’t anymore and then go on a cleaning spree and take a long bath. College has changed him.

Atsumu placed a hand on his thigh, keeping it in place. “You expect me to leave the bed with your legs spread for me like that?”

What a filthy mouth. Kiyoomi had two choices here: kick his dumb boyfriend to the floor, or go for round two. It looked like they were both up for it.

After a second of thought, he widened his legs the way he never would for anyone but Atsumu. 

Scarlet stained Atsumu’s cheeks and spread down to his chest. His wide brown eyes were fixed on the sight before him, and he licked his lips. Kiyoomi tracked the offending appendage with his eyes.

“Are you gonna put that tongue to better use or what?”

The journey from Osaka to Tokyo was nothing to scoff at.

They were sure to make it worth it.

**Chapter 4**

[2012]

Kiyoomi lost his virginity to Atsumu on the last night of the All-Japan Youth Training Camp. They’d spent the entire week preparing for it, getting braver and braver each night. It was a miracle they could keep their heads on straight during training.

Predicting that Kiyoomi would be sore the following morning, they decided to do it the night before they all went home.

They didn’t sleep. They fumbled and trembled and giggled through the entire awkward process — at some point Kiyoomi said, “What is going on, I don’t see what the big deal about this is,” and Atsumu had a bit of a crisis because “Oh god, my boyfriend doesn’t think I’m good in bed.”

It did feel overwhelmingly good at some point, but generally the whole thing was weird and uncomfortable and actually kind of terrible.

He made the mistake of saying that out loud.

“Atsumu,” he said, poking at his boyfriend’s back. Said boyfriend was curled into a ball under the blanket. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“Yes, you did,” came the muffled reply.

“Stop being a baby.”

Atsumu ignored him.

He shifted in bed and winced. He tried, “Atsumu, I’m really sore.”

That did it. Atsumu was out of the blankets and hovering over him worriedly. “I hurt you, didn’t I.”

“I think that’s unavoidable.”

“So you didn’t like it and now you’re in pain.” Atsumu sounded miserable.

“Who said I didn’t like it?”

Atsumu lifted his chin up to look at him.

“We’re just bad at it for now. What do we do when we’re bad at something?”

A slow smile spread on Atsumu’s face. “We practice.”

[2019]

There was nothing clumsy and inexperienced in the way they were moving now.

It’s been over a year since he and Atsumu broke up, but it doesn’t erase six years worth of knowledge. Six years worth of practice that became muscle memory.

Kiyoomi’s mind was scattered, unsure how they got here. They’d been washing the dishes together, when Kiyoomi slipped on a wet spot on the floor. Atsumu caught him around the waist with an arm, and they staggered, ending up pressed together by the sink.

“You’re heavy,” Atsumu huffed at him.

“Shut up, it’s all muscle.”

“Oh, I know,” he said in a low voice.

The way he was looking at Kiyoomi was causing heat to build in his stomach. An involuntary but expected reaction. “Atsumu,” he warned. This was not the time or place for bad ideas.

“No one else is here,” Atsumu replied. “The team won’t be back for hours…”

“Atsumu.”

“Who would it hurt?”

 _Me_ , he didn’t say.

Atsumu pressed a thigh between Kiyoomi’s legs and they both choked out a gasp. “Don’t you miss it?”

For the life of him, he couldn’t help but grind against his thigh. “I’m sure you could feel the answer to that.”

Resistance was futile. His body was conditioned to want Atsumu and Atsumu only. 

They crashed into Atsumu’s room and tumbled straight to bed. The mattress and pillows were comfy, the blankets soft to the touch. That was all Kiyoomi could register before he was pinned down by a familiar weight and he was overcome by desire.

Atsumu kissed him almost angrily. He fucked Kiyoomi roughly. It was too much, because it’s been a while, but Kiyoomi welcomed the burn. He felt like he was being ripped wide open and turned inside out, and he held onto Atsumu’s naked back for dear life.

It was quick but it felt like an unbearable eternity. When it was over and done with, he lay there boneless, mind quiet.

A wet cloth sliding against his stomach roused him into coherency. He turned his head and watched Atsumu clean him up gently, a stark contrast to how he was touching Kiyoomi earlier.

“That was stupid of us,” he croaked out.

“As I see it we are both single, consenting adults,” Atsumu answered. “We’re not 16-year-olds sneaking around anymore.”

Then Atsumu curled a hand under Kiyoomi’s calf and pried his legs apart, pressing the cloth in between. He gasped.

“How bad is it?”

He squirmed a little. “Not that bad.”

“Wanna go again?”

He glared at Atsumu, who chuckled and tossed the washcloth to the side. He lay down beside Kiyoomi and said, “You wore me out. I’ll nap then let’s do it again after.”

Then he had the nerve to actually fall asleep.

Kiyoomi stared at Atsumu’s sleeping face and wondered if it would solve all his problems if he just suffocated him with a pillow then and there.

Then he laughed at himself a little. _You idiot, what have you done now?_

[2017]

It was Kiyoomi’s 21st birthday but he wasn’t happy. His third year of college had ended, and he planned on staying with Atsumu in Osaka during the sembreak.

Before that though, Atsumu was supposed to visit Kiyoomi for his birthday. They were supposed to have dinner in his favorite restaurant, and then take the shinkansen together to Osaka the next day, because he hated traveling, but having Atsumu there made it better.

But Atsumu was nowhere to be seen.

He lay on his bed staring at his silent phone. He’d been waiting for hours.

He’d sent worried messages earlier, to no avail. His calls went unanswered.

He fell asleep with anger festering in his chest.

“Baby,” Atsumu whispered, shaking him awake. “Baby, I am so, so sorry.”

Kiyoomi had just woken but he was already angry and ready for a fight. He shoved Atsumu’s hand away and turned over in bed.

“I’ll make it up to you.” A familiar hand rubbed up and down his back. “Babe, come on. Let’s go to Osaka. I have something prepared for you there.”

The words only served to make him angrier. It was always fucking Osaka.

“Come on, talk to me, please? I swear I only meant to stay in the party for a while, but I don’t know what the hell Bo gave me.”

“You seemed to be in your right mind in your Snapchat posts,” he muttered thickly.

“My — my Snapchat posts? God, I don’t even remember posting shit.”

“Why don’t you go check?”

There was a sigh and the hand left his back. After a long minute, Atsumu said, “Oh.”

Kiyoomi closed his eyes so the tears wouldn’t slip out.

“I swear nothing happened, I don’t know her.”

Really? He didn’t know the girl plastered against him while they danced in the club? She was practically humping him, hand cupping the back of his neck while Atsumu laughed at the camera while he was recording.

That was the last post, and it had been radio silence from Atsumu since then.

“Omi. You know me. You know I would never do that to you, or to anyone. But especially _not to you_.”

The tears slipped out.

Voice panicked now, Atsumu said, “Omi, please, I know it’s asking for a lot right now, but I need you to _trust me_.”

“I can’t.”

“You can’t — you can’t trust me? You can’t —”

“Do this anymore.”

Shocked silence. Then he sat up and finally faced Atsumu.

“I can’t do this anymore,” Kiyoomi said clearly. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

Atsumu stared at him. “You want to...break up?”

He nodded.

“Because of some girl? Six years down the drain for a girl? Are you fucking serious, Kiyoomi? After everything, this is what’s going to do it? I told you nothing happened!”

“It’s not just the _girl_! It’s — it’s everything! Aren’t you tired of this, Atsumu? Aren’t you _sick_ of this? Of me? Because I think I’m pretty fucking sick of you and all your bullshit.”

Atsumu didn’t seem to have the ability to answer, so he continued.

“Six years of this, Atsumu. I don’t know what we’re still holding on for.”

“I’m holding on because I love you, Omi,” Atsumu finally said in a low voice.

“Do you? Is this what love fucking feels like? Sometimes I forget I have a fucking boyfriend, isn’t that hilarious? And I know you forget I exist, too, sometimes. Like yesterday, on my birthday.”

“Omi —”

“Do you really love me Atsumu? How much can you really love a person you only see a few times a year? We aren’t even _happy_. We haven’t been happy in a while. When was the last time we even really talked? Those stupid memes you send me don’t count.” He didn’t even open those anymore.

“I know long-distance is hard, but we’ve managed it for six years, I don’t see why we can’t manage it until you graduate. Just one more year, Omi.”

“Right. One more year, and then what? I follow you to Osaka? What if I want to join the Adlers? What will you do then? Will you follow _me_ to Tokyo?”

Atsumu opened his mouth then closed it.

“That’s what I thought.”

They fell into a heavy silence.

Then Atsumu said, “That’s it, then. We’re done?”

“We’re done.”

“Fine.”

Atsumu stood up from the bed and headed to the door. He paused by the doorway and Kiyoomi thought he was going to look back, but after a long moment of just standing there, Atsumu punched the wall.

Then he pulled his hand out of the hole he created and walked out the door, shutting it quietly.

And just like that it ended. With a bang, yes, but ultimately with a whimper.

\--

Kiyoomi thought he was doing fine. It had been two months since he and Atsumu ended things and life went on. Classes resumed — he was in his last year of university now. He went to lectures, did his homework, went to volleyball practice, played games.

Sure he sometimes automatically checked for messages from Atsumu, but that was just habit. Some nights he couldn’t sleep, but that might just be the stress. He was fine. It was a high school romance that just didn’t work out. That kind of thing was common. What did kids know about love, anyway? It was doomed from the start. Especially because it was a long-distance relationship from day one.

In fact, the distance was probably what drew it out for as long as it did. At first, they didn’t really care about it — it was like they were just having fun. There was no gravity in the relationship yet, there was nothing to worry about, they were just two boys in love who liked calling the other ‘boyfriend.’ It was a nice thing to have a boyfriend. Sure, they don’t always see each other, but that will change in the future. That was what they told themselves.

But the future arrived and they were still apart. The spark faded, reality set in. They started to really know each other inside out, and the flaws were more glaring than ever. They had to deal with Kiyoomi’s cattiness, and Atsumu’s temper, and both their inability to bend. They had to deal with volleyball losses, and stress from schoolwork, and the distance between them that sometimes stretched too far. They started to think, _what are we even doing? Is this even still worth it?_

And, _maybe there’s something or someone else better out there for us._

This couldn’t possibly be it, right? Late replies, missed calls, ignored messages. Days of forgetting to even talk to each other, weeks with nothing more than a _‘my butt has been itchy all day’_ and _‘gross.’_

There was simply no point to extending their misery. He was tired. He was tired of being obligated to respond to conversations he didn’t feel like holding, he was tired of waiting for Atsumu to decide he wanted to see him, he was tired of hoping only to be let down. He just didn’t feel it anymore. And he didn’t feel like Atsumu loved him anymore.

He hadn’t even seen Atsumu laugh the way he did with the girl in the video. Not with him, not in a while.

They no longer made each other happy. Ending it was the most merciful thing to do.

It was the right thing to do.

So there really was no reason for him to cry while doing the laundry. Or while cleaning his apartment. Or while walking from one class to the next.

And there was no reason to have a breakdown in the train when his Spotify played a song that reminded him of Atsumu, or when he was eating dinner alone, or when the date of their anniversary passed by without a sound.

He was never one to simply end things he started. But he was also never one to hold on to losses.

He’d made a choice. He had to stick to it. And he really did try.

But when Yuuto tried to kiss him, he felt disgusted. And when he tried to date Ushijima, he felt wrong. And when he thought he’d do anything to receive a dumb meme from Atsumu, he tried to swallow the truth.

There was the possibility that he might have made a mistake.

It took him a year to come to terms with it and another two months to figure out what to do about it.

He accepted the invitation from the MSBY Black Jackals to try out for their team. Knowing the deal was as good as done, he packed up his things, and prepared to leave his life behind. He was surprised at how easy it was. It didn’t feel like he was giving up anything. This time, he was running towards something: a future that had Atsumu in it again, for better or for worse.

He could only hope that Atsumu would meet him halfway.

**Chapter 5**

[2019]

He woke up shivering. It was dark, and not a single light was on. He turned his head to check the window and blearily made out snow. Heavy snow.

He patted the body next to him. Then he did it again, insistently.

Atsumu groaned. “What.”

“Blackout, I think. And blizzard.”

The bed shifted as Atsumu dragged himself to sit up. “Well, shit.”

Atsumu stumbled out of the bed, and out of the room, pulling the blanket along with him. Kiyoomi sat up gingerly and made a face at the gross feeling. He wondered if the water was too cold to take a shower. Probably.

He settled for passing an icy cold washcloth across his body. He splashed water on his face, wincing at the sting, but he felt better after. He returned to his room and dressed in his thickest pajamas and looked for Atsumu.

“What’s going on?”

Atsumu was standing in the kitchen, wrapped in the blanket, frowning down at his phone. “The signal’s cut off, but Meian was able to text before it was gone. They’re stranded in town. There’s a snowstorm, it’s dangerous to get out, and transportation is suspended.”

“And there is no electricity.”

“And there is no electricity,” he agreed. “But we have a fireplace. We can stay out here.”

“Do you think they’ll be fine?”

“Course they will. Don’t worry.”

They dragged pillows and thick blankets onto the floor in front of the fireplace. When Atsumu finally managed to light the fire, he went to the kitchen to make hot chocolate. The stove wasn’t electric, and it was attached to a gas tank, so they could still use it. He wondered if that was because these things tended to happen around here.

Atsumu handed him a mug of hot chocolate and disappeared to “clean up a bit and put on the damn clothes.” Kiyoomi sipped at the drink, recognizing his favorite brand.

He stared at the crackling fire and, for the first time in a while, truly pondered his life decisions. They crossed a line today. It can either be a one-off, or they can go down the messy route of being exes-with-benefits.

Or he can finally ask Atsumu what he came to Osaka for: another chance. He was the one to bend, this time. He was the one to take the risk. But could Atsumu still want to be with Kiyoomi again? He never contacted Kiyoomi in the year they’d been apart, and he never brought it up with Kiyoomi in the six months he’d been in the team. Kiyoomi was willing to admit that he’d hoped Atsumu would say the words that it was so hard for him to say. But when they saw each other at the Black Jackals tryouts, Atsumu had simply stared at him and looked away.

That nearly killed him. But he’d already made his choice. He kept telling himself _this is the day I’ll talk to Atsumu_ , but he couldn’t make himself do it. And then he heard Atsumu ask out Hinata in the locker room. He figured it was his punishment and swallowed it.

But now here they were.

He let out a frustrated sigh. Love was so messy.

But it didn’t always feel like that with Atsumu, did it?

The thing about being with Atsumu was that most days it was so _easy_. Personality-wise, they were opposites. But everything else?

Both of them had the same passion and priority, which was volleyball. Other interests vary but they were tolerant about them. They had more or less the same views on religion and politics. It took some time and a lot of experimentation in bed before they could say they were sexually compatible, but they were. Atsumu was more family-oriented than Kiyoomi, due to their backgrounds, but they both weren’t particularly inclined to have kids and just threw it up there as a possibility. Their major conflict points were really the money and the distance and the city where to settle down in.

But now Kiyoomi had moved to Osaka, and Atsumu had a steady paycheck from playing in the first division and can now stand on his own two feet. They were in the same city, even the same team together, but they weren’t _together_. The tiny remaining distance between them pricked at Kiyoomi. Their old problems were already moot. The stage was set.

It was just down to the players and their refusal to show vulnerability even after all this time.

He was so _close_ to tasting happiness again. Can he take the leap one more time?

Atsumu returned, dressed and carrying his own mug of hot chocolate. He settled beside Kiyoomi and they watched the fire in strangely comfortable silence. Snow was fluttering past the large windows, and despite the danger it poses, Kiyoomi found it entrancing. It was a beautiful night. Almost otherworldly.

“So that happened,” Atsumu quietly said, not disturbing the dreamlike atmosphere.

“Mmm.”

“You only got more beautiful than when I had you last.”

His stomach swooped. He was effectively silenced.

“Omi...I’ve been wanting to ask you. Do you think maybe we gave up on it too easily?”

He stared at the fire, throat tightening, because _yes_. Yes he did.

“I’m sorry, I know this is out of nowhere but this might be the only time I could get you to talk about it. I just...I know we’re over. In my brain, I know that. But why doesn’t it feel fucking over? Everytime I try to move on to someone else, I feel like I’m cheating on you. When I heard you were dating Ushijima I just about lost it. How could you move on so easily?”

He whispered, “You were the one who left so easily.” Atsumu didn’t even try to fight it.

“I guess...that’s true. I mean, a six-year long-distance relationship...it was a miracle we didn’t break up sooner. I thought it was inevitable, I guess. A part of me always thought you’d get sick of me one day. And it’s not like — it’s not like you were imagining a future with me, not really. I was just something that existed at the edges of your life. Still, I wanted...so many things. A wedding. A house. Maybe a puppy if I ever got you to agree. Losing that entire future I dreamt up was the most painful thing I ever experienced. Hell, I’d already started saving up for that. But I guess it doesn’t matter now.”

His mind was stuck on one thing. “A wedding? You wanted to marry me?”

“Who the hell else was I going to marry, Omi? You were the one person I could picture having a future with. I even went as far as buying a ring.”

“What?”

“On your birthday...I had it all set up. You were going to spend two weeks with me in Osaka. I thought it was the perfect time. I knew you were frustrated with me, because I haven’t been visiting and I wanted to show you — I wanted to show you I’ve been saving the money for the ring. For the wedding. I jumped the gun. I was looking too far ahead into the future, I didn’t realize you didn’t see a future with me at all. When you wouldn’t even look at me that day, I was scared. I knew I fucked up. Of course, I _fucking_ had to fuck up. I was so stupid. I shouldn’t have gone to the party. I wasn’t thinking. And maybe you’d never believe me but I swear, I _swear_ nothing happened with that girl. How could I do that? I was preparing for a damn _proposal_.

“But I suppose we had it coming. I just didn’t want to see it. We were struggling to hold on to the relationship. I just thought, if we were both holding on, then we can make it. But you let go, Omi. How could you just let go? Six _years_.”

Tears were streaming down his cheeks now. His heart ached. “I just lost sight of the point. I’m sorry, Tsumu. It’s so hard when you’re so far away. I should have been used to it but when we barely saw each other that last year I just — I wasn’t happy. And it was so easy to forget what we were fighting for. To just let everything slip away.”

“I’m sorry for that. I never wanted you to feel that. I wish you’d told me.”

“I tried. I kept asking you to visit, but you kept rejecting me and I just — stopped trying. Why was it so easy to stop trying?”

“I ask myself that often,” Atsumu said. “I can’t believe how you can just lose everything in the blink of an eye. Everything you worked for, everything you could possibly want, just...gone.”

He swallowed. Stared at the hypnotizing flames. “But what if it comes back?”

He felt Atsumu’s gaze on the side of his face. He whispered, “Omi?”

“Atsumu,” he said, voice wavering. “I went to Osaka to follow you. That was the plan wasn’t it?”

There was a tense pause. Then slowly, Atsumu said, “That was _my_ plan. A selfish one. Which you didn’t want.”

“I _didn’t_ want it. But just because I didn’t like the details doesn’t mean I didn’t want that _future_. I hated that you made that decision for us. But...I hated not being with you more.” Then he braced himself and threw his pride out the window. “Atsumu, is it too late? Am I too late?”

Hands grabbed his face, turning it around. He finally met Atsumu’s bloodshot eyes. “Omi. Any kind of hope might actually kill me right now. What are you saying?”

“I’m saying...it doesn’t feel over to me, too. Maybe it could never _be_ over, not after all those years. Because I still love you. And I love you even when I don’t want to. And…”

Thumbs brushed the tears from his cheeks. Voice thick, Atsumu asked, “And?”

“And I want my ring.”

Atsumu bowed his head and started crying quietly.

“I’m so sorry, Tsumu.”

“You better be,” Atsumu sniffled, raising his head to smile crookedly at Kiyoomi. “You broke my fucking heart.”

“Sorry.”

“Shh.” Atsumu pulled him in and cradled his head against his chest. “It’s yours to break. I love you with all that I am, Omi-Omi. I couldn’t stop either. And I’m so sorry that I kept breaking your heart, too.”

He started crying against Atsumu’s chest. Atsumu rubbed his back.

He didn’t know how long they stayed like that. The storm raged on, but they were safe and sound.

They ended up curled around each other on the floor. Running hands over each other, as if checking to see everything was still whole and working properly. The tears were gone and they were arrested in a state of surreal disbelief. Like an old dream was coming true and they weren’t sure what to do about it now.

“Could it really be that easy after all this time?” he wondered. “I’ve been struggling for months.”

“Were you? You always looked so unaffected. I kept wanting to just — just run to you and kiss you and demand that you never leave me again, but you were so...distant.”

“I wish you did. It would have been easier.”

Atsumu laughed and curled a hand behind his head. “How many times do I have to tell you I can’t read your mind?”

“I’m trying.”

“I know. It’s okay. We’ll work on it.” Atsumu’s thumb rested on his cheekbone. “What made you decide to come back to me?”

“Hmm. Well I wasn’t any better without you,” Kiyoomi mused. “Life went on. World kept turning. Strange how it does that.”

“Strange,” Atsumu agreed, eyes fixed on Kiyoomi’s face. “It was weird for me, too. Time passed and I went through the motions, but I feel like I was just waiting for you.”

He smiled at that. “I guess I just thought...if life was going to be shitty no matter what, then I might as well have the one person I want to spend it with. Right?”

“Right.” Atsumu was looking at him with tear-filled eyes like Kiyoomi just said something particularly meaningful.

“I don’t think I’m making sense.”

“Somehow, I understand.”

“Strange how you do that.”

Atsumu laughed. “Yeah. Strange.” He wrapped his arms around Kiyoomi and pulled. “Hey, Omi.”

“Hmm?”

“Let’s never do that again.”

“Yeah.”

“Because we’re meant to be together.”

“Yeah.”

“And we just proved it in the most painful way possible for the both of us.”

“Yeah.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“How agreeable of you,” Atsumu mused. “Wait here, baby.”

Atsumu let go of him and left, but Kiyoomi remained warm because of the old pet name.

When Atsumu returned, he kneeled beside Kiyoomi and hovered over him. “Say, I love you, Atsumu.”

“I love you, Atsumu,” he replied obediently.

“Say, I’ll marry you, Atsumu.”

His lips parted wordlessly, breath catching in his throat.

Atsumu took his hand, and there was the feeling of cold metal brushing against his skin. Heart pounding in his chest, he raised his hand and gazed at the gold ring circling his fourth finger.

“Well?” There was a smile in Atsumu’s voice. “Will you?”

He was crying silently again. “I’ll marry you, Atsumu.”

Their lips crashed together the way a wave would crash onto the shore. Inevitable. Doomed to repeat until eternity. For all the immensity of the sea, it kept coming back to the land.

They made love all through the night. Atsumu was still rougher than he was used to, as if he was asking Kiyoomi to prove that he was still his. And Kiyoomi gave and gave until he felt like there was nothing left of him. But that was okay. Because Atsumu gave him everything, too.

“Damn,” Atsumu panted when they were cooling down. “How can that still be so damn good?”

Kiyoomi was too out of it to even respond. When Atsumu cleaned them up, _again_ , Kiyoomi managed to breathe out, “No one comes close to you.”

“I’d hope not,” Atsumu said darkly. “Damn it, Omi, you just had to remind me. I want to kill Ushijima.”

Kiyoomi chuckled. “He’ll kick your ass.”

“Are you on his fucking side —”

Kiyoomi laughed louder. “How can you still be upset? I’m engaged to you now.”

Atsumu stilled. “Holy shit!”

They laughed against each other’s lips. And then they fell asleep in each other’s arms, warm and content and happy, two puzzle pieces finally back together.

**Chapter 6**

[2019]

He didn’t know what woke him. His body was sore from sleeping on the floor (and their rather extreme activities last night) but he was curled around Atsumu, so that was okay. Pale light streamed softly from the windows.

Atsumu was on his back, face turned away, towards the now silent fireplace. Kiyoomi disentangled a leg from the blankets twisted around their ankles and hooked it over Atsumu’s hips.

Stirring, Atsumu turned his head to face him, eyes still closed. But he placed a hand on Kiyoomi’s bare thigh and hitched it up higher.

Before he could open his mouth to greet him good morning, a horribly familiar voice whispered, “Oh my god, it’s not going away.”

Atsumu’s eyes flew open and Kiyoomi jerked up, hands dragging the blankets up to cover his naked body. Atsumu tugged on it to cover his privates.

“How long have you been standing there?” Kiyoomi snapped at his teammates, who stood far away from them in the living room, staring at them with bugged out eyes and open mouths. 

Inunaki turned red. “Just for a few minutes! We just got here! And you were — we were having a crisis here, okay! What the hell!”

Meian had a hand on his cheek. He looked pale. “It’s still not going away. Tell me I’m hallucinating.” Barnes patted him on the back, hard.

“I thought you hated each other,” Adriah said, sounding lost.

Bokuto and Hinata just kept looking from Atsumu to Kiyoomi and back, seemingly speechless in shock.

“It’s fine guys,” Atsumu said, sitting up. “We’re engaged.”

Barnes caught Meian just as he fainted.

\--

After a shower (which they shared, snickering all the while), they met their teammates in the living room again. They were seated around the coffee table, where a bunch of food from the conbini was laid down. A couch was left empty for them.

They sat side by side and started digging around the offerings. Kiyoomi picked up a sandwich. It was still warm; they must have bought the stuff on their way back here.

When he bit down on it, he could feel each of his teammates staring at him. He blinked at them, chewing.

“That’s a real ring,” Inunaki said, dazed. “There is a real ring on your finger.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “I like it.”

Atsumu curled an arm around his waist and nuzzled at his neck. “You better,” he muttered. “I’ve been holding on to that for over a year.”

“Alright, can someone explain now?” Inunaki demanded. “This is fucking weird!”

“Is this one of those whirlwind romances, because if so, then I’m telling you it’s going to crash and burn,” Meian said sternly, seeming to have gotten himself together.

Atsumu laughed like that was the funniest thing he’s ever heard and even Kiyoomi cracked a smile.

“You got it all wrong. Omi-Omi and I have been together for seven years. Since first year high school.”

They just stared at them, uncomprehending.

“Technically six. We broke up,” Kiyoomi said.

“No, seven,” Atsumu insisted. “We’ve been counting since that day we started talking, I’m not stopping now.”

“But we broke up. We just got back together.”

“It was just a tiny blip. Just a year compared to the six years and the rest of our lives, it barely counts. It was just a break.”

“Let me get this straight,” Meian said. “You were together for six years. You broke up and were separated for a year. You just got back together, and now you’re engaged?”

“Yes,” Kiyoomi said again. He thought about this and looked at Atsumu. “You’re right, it was just a blip.” It felt like they were just picking up where they left off, except they were surer now than ever.

Atsumu rewarded him with a smile.

“Oh my god, Tsumutsumu and Omi-kun are gonna get married,” Bokuto finally whispered.

“We obviously haven’t planned anything, so we’ll let you know. There’s no rush, right, babe?”

“Yeah. But I want a winter wedding.”

“Consider it done.”

Kiyoomi put his sandwich down and scooted closer to Atsumu. He wrapped his arms around his shoulders and nosed at his hair.

Atsumu pressed his face against the curve of his neck, kissing him there.

“Okay, this is too weird,” Adriah announced. He stood up. “I’m going to go freak out in my room.”

“Same,” Inunaki said, and they left.

“Um, Omi-san…” Hinata finally spoke for the first time. “I am so sorry about…”

“It’s fine, Hinata,” he said mildly. “I had no right to be upset.”

“I always wondered why you seemed to hate me…”

Oops. Haltingly, he said, “I don’t hate you.” It sounded like a lie, so he corrected himself. “I’ll get over it. I apologize if I was unprofessional in any way.”

“Oh, no,” Hinata assured. “I just hoped we’d be friends.”

Kiyoomi couldn’t find it in himself to promise anything, but he’ll probably get over it eventually. His brain and his heart were not always in agreement. He just smiled vaguely.

“Omi,” Atsumu said sternly.

“What? If I ask you to be friends with Wakatoshi, will you do it?”

Atsumu’s jaw twitched.

“That’s what I thought.” He looked back at Hinata. “I’ll get over it, really.” One day.

Hinata nodded, wide-eyed.

Since the island was still recovering from the blizzard, they stayed indoors the rest of the day.

Kiyoomi and Atsumu stayed in bed, sometimes making love, sometimes just laying together, coexisting. Like they’d never been apart.

\--

It was strange how suddenly one can be brought back to life, Kiyoomi mused as he held Atsumu’s hand while they walked around town. And strange how easily everything can fall apart, and then be whole again. There were cracks, sure, but they’ll fill them in, and it will be better than ever.

Because now they were sure that they didn’t want anything more than this.

Atsumu swung their arms wildly as they walked, something he’d always been prone to doing when he was feeling playful. He was like a child. Sometimes that irritated Kiyoomi, but sometimes that made him smile.

He was smiling today. It was nice to be free with Atsumu like this.

The snow dumped on Niseko has been cleared down to a more acceptable level, and they were making the most of the remaining time they had. In a week or so, the V. League season will resume, but for now they were back to acting like young lovers with no care in the world.

The team had taken to watching them with expressions ranging from horror to suspicion to morbid fascination. They mostly ignored them, content to attach themselves to each other. Kiyoomi indulged Atsumu’s every demand for selfies, because he’d apparently told Osamu that they were engaged but the latter wasn’t convinced.

“Are you going to post that?” Bokuto asked eagerly.

“Hmm,” Atsumu said. “I didn’t even think of that. What do you say, babe, wanna go public?”

“Shouldn’t we ask Foster and our manager?”

“Ah, right.”

After a phone call with an alarmed and disbelieving Foster, their coach eventually said, tiredly, “Do what you want. I suppose it’s good PR for the next half of the season.”

Bokuto and Hinata excitedly directed their photos, trying to make it the “best ever because this will go viral.” Kiyoomi lost his patience after the first five shots, scowling at the camera, and that put the end to it. Atsumu finally said he’ll just post one of their old pictures still saved in his phone, and then one from the trip.

This made the team gather around them demanding to see said old pictures, so they made their way to a cafe for some afternoon coffee and snacks. Atsumu showed them pictures all the way back from 2011, and scrolled down past the years. They looked ridiculous then. His old hair horrified Kiyoomi. So did Atsumu’s. But it was easy to see how they’ve grown as Atsumu showed more and more photos.

Adriah said, “Damn, it really is true then, you were really high school sweethearts.”

“Why would you doubt us?” Atsumu asked, offended.

“How did you do it?” Inunaki asked, sounding amazed. “The two of you, for that long?”

After some consideration, Atsumu said, “The thing is, it didn’t even feel that long. Did it, babe?”

Kiyoomi shook his head. “It sounds like a long time, but time really flies. Before you know it, it's been six years and you've gotten pretty sick of each other.”

Atsumu pouted.

He softened his voice. “And then one day you realize that six years isn’t nearly enough. Because the spark fades, but love never dies.”

Atsumu teared up.

Kiyoomi leaned in and kissed him on his trembling mouth. What a crybaby.

“That’s sweet,” Hinata said wistfully.

“You kind of beat the odds with this one,” Barnes mused. “Take it from someone who knows, maintaining a long-term relationship is hard work, what more a long-distance one?”

“I mean, we did break at some point,” Kiyoomi allowed, pulling away.

“Faltered,” Atsumu insisted, slinging an arm around Kiyoomi’s shoulders. “We faltered, we did not break. And we’re over it. One day we’ll laugh about it.”

“Just like that?” Meian asked, looking confused and rather disbelieving.

Kiyoomi looked at Atsumu, also wanting to hear what he had to say.

Atsumu just shrugged. “Just like that. The amount of things you learn to forgive...you’ll be surprised just how far your patience and understanding can go.” He looked at Kiyoomi. “I mean, the _pains_ you brought me, Omi. You put me through some tough shit through the years.” Then he kissed him on the cheek sweetly. “But I love you.”

“You did too,” Kiyoomi said, feeling a little choked up. “You still have to make it up to me for what you did on my 21st birthday.”

“How many times do I have to apologize —”

“And you punched a hole through my apartment wall, do you know how much I had to pay —”

“You just broke up with me, forgive me if I was a little upset —!”

“And remember that time you walked out on me in that restaurant —”

“I just said we were over it —”

“They’ll be divorced in less than a year,” Inunaki predicted.

“I think they’ll be just fine,” Barnes said, sounding amused.

\--

It was only when they were settled back in Osaka that it hit Kiyoomi. He woke up pressed against a warm body, fingers stroking his hair. He smiled.

“Mornin’,” Atsumu said.

“You’re here.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Every day.”

Atsumu pressed a kiss on the moles on his forehead. “Every day.”

“Until we die?”

“Must you be so morbid?” Another kiss. “Until we die. We made it, love. I’m giving you everything now. We’ve waited long enough.”

He basked in quiet happiness.

The stillness of the morning was interrupted by Atsumu’s sudden laugh. “I just realized. Do you know, we have many, many fans hoping we’d get together?”

“Ah, right.”

“Imagine the notifications waiting on our phones right now. Maybe we should have eased them into it, instead of announcing we’re engaged after seven years of being together.”

“Six.” Then he grinned. “It’s gonna be chaos.”

“Definitely. You ready for that?”

“Yeah.” As long as Atsumu was by his side.

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

He smiled, remembering. “Me too, Tsumu.”

[2014]

He laughed breathlessly as he ran hand in hand with Atsumu across the darkening streets. Atsumu had been showing him around Osaka, his new home for the foreseeable future, when he spotted Inunaki exiting a store. Inunaki had squinted and called out, unsure, “Atsumu…?”

Atsumu had taken off, dragging Kiyoomi with him, who was thankfully wearing a cap. He followed automatically, laughing at the ridiculousness, wondering how much longer they could keep their relationship from the public.

When they reached the Airbnb that Kiyoomi was staying in for the next few days, Atsumu tackled him into the bed.

“Osaka’s not that bad, is it?” Atsumu asked.

“No, not that bad.”

“One day, we’ll finally be in a city together. You’ll finish college and I’ll save up money from playing professional volleyball, and we’ll build a life together and we’ll live happily ever after.”

“Is there such a thing as happily ever after?”

Atsumu hummed. “You’re right, it doesn’t need to be happily ever after. Just knowing I’d get a future with you is good enough for me. Just hold on for a few more years, okay?”

It sounded daunting to Kiyoomi. “Do we even have it in ourselves to manage that?”

“Course we do. We’re not quitters. It will be hard but...we love each other, right? We’ll always find our way back to each other, I just know it.”

“You’re right.”

“I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you, Sakusa Kiyoomi.”

“Me too, Tsumu.”

**Author's Note:**

> So who wants a social media companion fic for this? Also, you can get updates on my stuff on Twitter (@lettersinpetals)! I also welcome prompts, send 'em in my curiouscat.


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